


Prince of Many Faces

by Atol



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Commoner!George, Dream is an idiot with feelings, Fluff, Frotting, M/M, Masked Dream, Paradise Found, Prince!Dream, Sapnap and Bad are only mentioned like once or twice, otherwise this is mostly Dream trying to run away from his feelings, realistic minecraft au, royal au, self imposed angst that is nothing more than being an emo little turd about feelings, there is smut at the very very end, they are not big characters in this im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:54:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26905444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atol/pseuds/Atol
Summary: Dream was a Prince who knew his duties. Didn't mean he had to like them, especially as his father was constantly on his case to find a consort. He escapes the palace, if only for a moment to himself, and finds someone new, someone who makes his heart race. Only problem is that, this man doesn't know that Dream is a prince.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound
Comments: 16
Kudos: 642





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Minus-Sass](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Minus-Sass).



> This is a gift for Minus-Sass. Hope you like :D

Dream sat, looking over the maps in his study, but only barely paying attention. The sun streaming into the room bounced off of his head, making his blond hair look like spun gold. As prince of his land, it was expected of him to study trade routes and the lands neighboring his soon to be kingdom. To be prepared for the worst, and pray for the best. And yet, his mind might as well have been cotton, recently. He sat in his green and golden clothes, the colors of his kingdom, that itched at his skin where the stitches of fine spun metal were a constant reminder that he had responsibilities. He could not ride off into the forest and play among the trees as he had in his youth. He was coming of the age to marry, and he had found no one held his attention. 

Sighing he pushed back from his desk and looked out the window of the high tower of his fathers castle. It would soon be his as well, and it left him only with a heaviness to his shoulders that he struggled to bare. 

It was all his father cared to speak to him about, when once they may have laughed in their private quarters and shared stories of hunts and adventures of youth, or read together in companionable silence, now the only words his father bothered with was to hound him about finding someone to be his consort. 

It was a blessing enough that his father cared not for if the consort was a woman, at the least. Yet the constant reminders, the offers to set him up, the surprise meetings with high ranking officials from within the kingdom and even visiting royals from others was grating on Dream's nerves. 

How was he meant to find love when he was drowning in a sea of admirers who didn't even know who he was? It was unfathomably lonely. 

He was half the mind to just propose a marriage of convenience, a treaty with extra bells and whistles as it were, to his friend and fellow prince Sapnap from the kingdom across the desert to the west of his kingdom. He loved his friend, even if he were not In Love with him, and it would be a tolerable arrangement at the least. It would spare him any more attempts by his father to match-make him. 

Yet he knew that Sapnap would have no need to agree to it. He might, if Dream begged it of him, but he had no obligations to find a consort. He was not next in line, he would be doing Dream a favor that far outweighed any benefits he would reap from it, and Dream's pride wouldn't take the pitying look that he just knew he would get from his friend. So no, that was not a viable option either. 

Standing up abruptly, knocking his chair over and catching it before it slammed to the ground, he set his desk to rights and grabbed a leather pack from the doorway. Sneaking down the large stone hallways, he made his way to his private quarters and quickly stripped, leaving himself only in his cream under clothes. Throwing his finery into a pile on his bed before reaching underneath the mattress and pulling out a simple and faded green hooded cape and dark brown britches. Pulling his disguise on, and flipping the hood up, he shouldered his pack and crept back to the hallway. 

Sticking to the shadows, he held his breath as a pair of guards walked past the mouth of the hallway, and took of in the direction they had come from, quickly flying down the stairs until he reached the servants quarters and slipped past, out to the stables, and then took off running into the woods. He would have to circle around the town nearby to be able to come to the proper road and enter without making it obvious that he had came from the castle. 

The forest was alive with the sounds of wildlife and the breeze tugging at the leaves on the trees as he walked. A sense of peacefulness he hadn't felt for weeks settled over him like am embrace, and he breathed in deep, just enjoying the freedom. Here in the woods he wasn't Prince Clay of the Birch Palace. He was just Dream. Dream without the titles, without the expectations, without the weight of his kingdom and subjects pulling him under. As he walked, he pulled a mask from his pack and set it on his face. Introducing himself as Dream was fine, no one knew the personal nickname of the prince, but his face was well known. 

It would only take one person glimpsing his green eyes and sun-kissed dimples and the jig would be up. Thankfully, due to the town surrounding the castle, it was a hub for entertainers looking to make it big either by actually performing for the royals, or at least drawing a crowd in the market square. Someone in a costume was a standard sight, and most traveling performers wore a mask, so they could keep the mystique of their performances when out and about. His simple smiling white mask was known for doing archery performances, and occasionally acrobatics. Today he wanted to only blend in with the crowds, maybe buy a new trinket to send to Sapnap when he next wrote. As long as he didn't purposefully draw a crowd most people would leave him be.

As he passed edge of the forest and made his way to the gateway that lead into the town, he nodded cordially to the guards who nodded back at him. If only they knew he was the wayward Prince. It had a wry smile twist its way onto Dream's lips as he let himself be jostled about in the crowded streets. Slipping into an alleyway, he reached up to a ledge and hauled himself up before kicking off of the window sill and making a small leap to grasp the edge of a roof and swing his legs up after him. He peered down at the people in the many streets and just watched. 

Sometimes the weight of the kingdom had him feel a slight resentment for those he was meant to care for. He didn't know these people personally, and felt so distant from them when up in the throne room, watching people line up to air their grievances to his father and ask for advice. Yet. When he was among them. When he was in the streets themselves, when he was watching them from the vantage of a home. It made the weight feel just that much lighter. Or perhaps that was the wrong way to think of it. It wasn't any easier, but it felt worth while. It felt like he cared, even if he didn't know that woman or man personally, he could hear their voices, see them laugh and barter with one another, see couples walk hand in hand, or children ride on their parents shoulders. It made it feel so much more real. 

He sighed, and waved back to a few people who caught sight of him up on his perch. A few stood off to the sides of the streets, waiting to see if he would do a show, but after a handful of long minutes of nothing they wandered off. Hunkering down just a bit to be more hidden, Dream people watches, smiling at the antics of some children running around, playing. He was so lost in thought, wondering about the lives of the people around him, he didn't even hear the careful footsteps behind him until someone cleared their throat. 

Whirling around, heart in his throat he almost flipped straight off of the roof, before stopping dead in his tracks. This stranger was handsome, was the first thought that popped into his head. Tousled brunette hair, pale smooth skin that practically glowed in the sunlight. And the most arresting mismatched eyes, one a warm laughing brown, the other a vivid blue. It was overwhelming for a moment because for the first time upon meeting someone, Dream was speechless. 

“Ah, um. Is this spot, taken?” The stranger asked hesitantly, pointing to the spot next to Dream. 

“No. Not at all.” He managed to choke out, tensing minutely as the stranger carefully sat down next to him. 

“I'm George.” George, if he could believed, said, with a grin.

“Dream.” He said after a pause, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at the shorter man. 

“So, Dream. What are you doing up here on my cousins roof?” George asked with a curious, if not slightly teasing tone.

“Oh, shit I'm sorry.” Dream started.

“No, no it's fine. She grumbled something about performers but she said it with a smile, so I don't think she actually cares.” George said, letting his gaze roam over Dream's mask. 

“Ah. Well, ya know. It's ah, it's a living!” Dream said, nervous in a way he never was with people. 

Often his upbringing came out too much, he was confident and assured when he spoke to other townsfolk, so much so that his mask was often hunted down by people looking to try their hand at chatting up the mysterious performer. It was exhausting, too similar to the constant attention from royal admirers. It was as if he couldn't escape his fate no matter how he tried. 

Taking a moment to really drink in George's face from behind the safety of his mask, he could feel himself blush. Thankfully the tips of his ears were hidden in his hood, so while he was slowly feeling like he lost his mind, at least he was still presented in a stoic unaffected way. Or at least he thought. 

Grasping for control of the situation Dream set his chin in his hand and spoke. 

“I don't recognize you. Are you new to town?” He managed to say with an even tone, even if it was lower than he had tried for. 

It was like his body was actively trying to ruin him.

“Yeah, actually. I've just moved in with my cousin. I originally lived across the ocean from here, the one to the east? There was...I felt that I was old enough to venture off on my own. A change of pace, ya know?” He said with a smile that only wavered for a moment.

“Sure. How do you like it?” Dream asked, begging his heart to calm in his chest. 

“It's very hot.” George said with a laugh. 

“It's not hot, it's just muggy.” Dream scoffed, a smile obvious in his voice. 

“Oh no, no it is certainly hot. Call it whatever you wish, I've never felt so much heat. I'm used to cool rain and snow, not this heat that makes it seem like the air shakes in the distance.” George ranted. 

“You'll get used to it.” Dream said, “Or at least you will if you are planning on sticking around...?” 

He wanted to plant his face in his hands, for that almost desperate curiosity, but thankfully he hadn't seemed to overstep. 

“I think I will.” George smiled at Dream as if he were telling him a secret. “I think I like it here enough to stick around for at least a good while.” 

Dream felt his heart soar at that, and then wondered what that even meant.

“Good.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, sorz

They had sat on the roof until the sun had started to set, and he had watched the colors play over George's face more than the actual sunset itself. They had spoken about so much, things they enjoyed, stories of what they got up to in their youth. Everything that Dream had said was carefully edited to not give himself away as the Prince, but George was so new to the kingdom, there were a few slip ups that he didn't catch. How was he to know anything about the Prince of a land he had only just arrived in not a few days ago? 

Dream, on the other hand had learned so much in such a short amount of time about the other man he felt like he was fit to burst with the knowledge. He knew about his pets growing up, he knew about the mans colorblindness, he knew about what sort of food he preferred, that he was working on becoming a scribe, and was interested in alchemy. The way that all the words that fell from the others mouth were shaped differently to his own was charming, even if some of the words he said made no sense and he had to get an explanation for some of the slang too foreign to him to parse. 

Dream had departed just before it was night, only staying long enough to help George down from the roof. The feeling of the other mans hand in his and the sensation as his body slide against his own as he helped him to the street below had him burning. It felt like he had been poisoned, the feeling coursing through his veins even as he finally made his way back to his room in the castle and threw his disguise back down under his bed and got into his sleeping clothes. 

It was dark, likely close to midnight now. Moonlight streamed in through the balcony of Dream's room, and he could enjoy none of it. His stomach was rolling as he laid in bed and stared up at the yellow canopy that hung around him to keep out bugs, the gauze-y transparent material staring back at him. He had been tossing and turning, and finally had given up on sleep a few hours ago. Each time he closed his eyes, all he could see was George's smiling lips, or the fake outrage on his face as Dream teased him about his accent. 

He had never once felt the way he did when speaking to George when speaking to any of the many people his father had introduced to him. Never had he been so engaged in a conversation to lose track of time or of himself. If anything he had always looked for the first escape, had been bored beyond the scope of human possibility by the inane things that the royals and dignitaries that his father had paraded past him at every turn. Yet with George, it had flowed so naturally. He had hung on every word, and had participated in the conversation, had felt the need to try and impress, try to inspire the same sort of excitement in George. 

Groaning he sat up in bed and rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes. 

“I need to see him again.” He muttered, then thought better of it. ”I want to see him again...” 

The admission made him feel like driftwood in the waves of the ocean, both drowning, yet too light to hold its own.


	3. Chapter 3

Dream dodged his father the next day, and quickly made his way into town once more, looking for the house that he had only stumbled over previously. He had made a point of marking cobble stone at the mouth of the alleyway between it and its neighbor so he could find it again and be certain. It wouldn't do to climb on the wrong house and miss George completely. 

He had an apple tart carefully stowed away in his bag, hoping it would be received well. He had filched it from the royal kitchen on his way out to the woods today. 

It was perhaps a bit early in the morning, to be putting his feet all over the homes roof, but he couldn't spare a thought to that, with how impatient he was to meet George again. After swinging himself up, he huddled up on the roof once more, setting his pack down carefully so as to not overturn the tart, and waited. The streets were not nearly as crowded, so early in the morning. The sun was only just rising in the sky and painting the world in vivid color, and he watched as shop keepers opened their doors, setting out their stock or flipping signs to let others know they were ready for business. He let his mind wander, as he waited. 

What was it he wanted from George, in the long run? At night it had seemed so simple, that he wanted to meet the man again, that he hadn't really taken the time to think further than the next day. So he would meet him again, today hopefully. They would talk, and he would share the tart, but then what. What was he doing here, in the center of the town on a roof, waiting for a man he had only spoken to once? What did he want?

A friend. The thought popped into his head before anything else in the calming white noises of the street below him. Sure he had friends, such as Sapnap, and the castled head advisors son Bad, he got along well enough with a handful of royals from other kingdoms, but he wasn't close. The closest of friends was a long week trek across a desert, the other was often too busy learning the ins and outs of enchanting to be bothered with the whims that Dream often had. Perhaps that was uncharitable of Dream. Bad was a good, loyal friend. He just took his responsibilities a bit more seriously than Dream did, worked harder at being a well rounded individual, where as Dream was still struggling to find himself. 

Regardless, his train of thought was disrupted completely as he heard a giggle behind him. Whipping around, much the same way he had yesterday, he felt his body sag with relief as he caught sight of George once more. 

“I almost didn't expect you to show up again.” George admitted as he took a seat next to Dream. 

“Why's that?” Dream asked, wondering how he could possibly have given off the feeling of not wanting to stay or come back.

Shrugging George just smiled and squinted up at the fluffy white clouds in the sky, one hand held up to block out the sunlight. 

“Not sure. Felt like last night was almost like a-no that's stupid.” He muttered as he stopped himself mid sentence.

“What's stupid?” Dream asked, scooting closer. 

“Nothing! Nothing, I swear.” George said with a laugh. 

“Hmph. Well if you won't tell me I'll just keep my present all to myself.” Dream said with a heavily put upon snooty voice. 

“What?! What is it?” George exclaimed, a shiny look to his eyes at the word present.

“Nope. No presents for people who keep secrets.” Dream said, ignoring the twinge in his gut at the irony of the statement. 

Out of the two his secrets were much larger. 

Sighing heavily George frowned before crossing his arms and groaning up at the sky. 

“Fine! I was just saying that it felt like a fairy tale. Mysterious masked stranger captures your attention for a night and leaves never to return.” He said, growing quieter and quieter as he spoke. 

“Awe, George~ I'll be your fairy tale.” He said, teasing him just to get that blush to reappear. 

“Shut up! I knew I shouldn't have said it.” George stammered, looking away from Dream. “Where's my present?” 

Letting out a wheeze of a laugh, Dream dug into his pack and carefully took out the tart still in it's parchment wrapping and handed it over. 

“Careful, it's still a bit warm.” He said as he leaned back, watching George poke at the package curiously. “Go ahead, open it. It won't blow up in your face, come on George.” 

“Don't rush me, I'll take all the time I want, it's my present.” He shot back with a fake glare, lessened by his obvious grin. 

He finally unwrapped it and lifted it up to his nose to take a sniff, closing his eyes and smiling at the sweet scent. Glancing to the side and back to look at Dream's face he looked down at the tart again and let himself smile a gentle less teasing smile. 

“Thank you.”

“You are very welcome, Georgie.”

“Don't call me that.” 

Time passed in at a quick pace as they spent quite a few hours up there, talking like they had the day before, joking and occasionally making up stories about the people walking the streets below, or naming the shapes of the clouds above them. Just before it was a bit past midday, George stood up. 

“I hate to say it, but I have to be off. I have to run a few errands for my cousin before the end of the day. Will...” he hesitated a moment before continuing as he offered a hand to help tug Dream to his feet. “Will you be here tomorrow?” 

The smile grew under the mask until Dream felt like his face would crack in two. 

“Oooh, I dunno George. What will you give me if I do?” Dream teased, leaning in and looming over the shorter man. 

A blush worked it's way up George's neck, and Dream had the fleeting thought about how far down it went. 

“My company, you menace. Take it or leave it.” He finally managed to snap back, looking over the edge of the roof to see if he was confident enough to try and get down by himself. 

“Don't be like that Georgie!” Dream exclaimed with a laugh. “What about a kiss?” 

He didn't even know why he had said that, but thankfully the other man didn't notice the sudden tension in Dream's limbs as he scoffed. 

“I told you, don't call me that. And what would you even want a kiss from me for? Decoration for your mask?” He deflected, even as the blush climbed up and tinted his cheeks. 

Never one to half ass something, Dream stuck to his guns. 

“Oh George, you wound me! Why wouldn't I want a kiss from you?” He said, struggling to keep his tone light hearted. “Come here, gimme a smooch right now!” 

“No! Get away from me you maniac!” George said with a loud laugh as he carefully shimmied down and took the jump down to the alleyway below. 

Dream just peered down at him from the roof, wheezing loudly enough to be mistaken for a tea kettle as George ran off towards the market proper, waving his goodbyes as he went. 

As his laughter finally faded off, he laid there for a moment, watching the sky above him. The feeling crept up on him slowly, cooling his amusement with a sense of embarrassment.

“Dream, you idiot. Gimme a smooch? What is wrong with you?” He muttered to himself grabbing his head and pulling at his hair. 

His stupid words kept him up the entire night as he laid awake in bed for a second night.


	4. Chapter 4

This same pattern repeated day after day for well into a month. He had evaded his father's meddling and was getting bolder by the day with George. Teasing and joking was their main mode of communication, and even as he ignored the feeling rising in his chest, he couldn't resist doing his best to make George blush at every opportunity. 

He would sometimes bring more treats from the kitchen, a few times he had picked a handful of flowers from the woods instead, presenting them with the same self satisfied smile under his mask each time that George stuttered. Despite the weak protests, he never refused any of the gifts Dream brought with him. Each day they spent together, sometimes not even talking but just sitting close, thighs touching as they sat in comfortable silent, it was a treasure Dream was not eager to lose. While at home he had thrown himself into his studies, as if to overcompensate for his avoiding his father, as if to prove he would be fine without a consort. If he could just prove that he was fine as a solitary rule, then perhaps he could get his father to see he could pick someone from any standing, that it wouldn't be a disadvantage if maybe, just maybe he could pick someone for himself, someone with windblown brunette hair and a smile that stole his breath...

Any time those thoughts made themselves obvious he pushed them down and locked them away. He was content to me George's friend, to have someone who lit up whenever he found him back on his roof the next day for their talks. He could live the rest of his life happily as long as George was nearby to look at him in that same soft way he does whenever he says goodbye. He didn't need to make it anything more than what it already was, didn't need to come on too strong. He had never felt this way about anyone, and was not willing to risk it all by making a fool out of himself. 

Even if sometimes in the middle of the night he let himself fantasize just for a moment that George felt even somewhat the same about him, the many protests and the refusal to say 'I love you” back even as a joke told him all that he needed to know. No. Friends was more than Dream deserved for how much he needled the man. He could not possibly ask more of him. Not to mention he wasn't being completely truthful with George. He only knew Dream, the masked man. He had no idea that his rooftop companion was a Prince, let alone the Prince of the very kingdom he lived in. No, there was no way he could ever let George know, it would change everything. He would lose him, and if George could never find out about his being a Prince, he certainly could never dare start a relationship with him while hiding such a huge part of his life. 

Despite the way his heart clenched in his chest, he knew that it was never meant to be. Not now, not ever.


	5. Chapter 5

He had let George know the day before that he wouldn't be able to meet him today. George had laughed in a relieved way and told him that was good, because he was going to tell him much the same. He had to go on an important errand for his family, and hadn't elaborated any further on it despite Dream wheedling at him to try and find out. He was almost thankful, because at least his father hadn't been the sole reason for him missing George.

Dream had finally been ambushed by his father early in the morning before he had snuck away and told that under no circumstances was he to miss the day's grievances of the masses. He was to wake up, and be presentable immediately after breakfast to sit by his father in the slightly smaller throne to the right and even if he refused to take part in the advise, he at least had to be present. 

So a day of long intricate issues that only added to his already rising stress. He wanted to be anywhere but in the throne room today, if he was honest he wanted to be anywhere with George, but he wasn't ready to be honest with himself quite yet. He mentally scolded himself, it wouldn't have mattered. George was also busy today. There was no need for his mask today.

Instead he dressed himself in the gold and rich deep green that was expected of him, let the golden circlet sit upon his honey colored hair, and resisted the urge to cross his arms and pout as he sat next to his father and listened to the going-ons of those who came for an audience with the king. He knew it would be a day long affair, it always was. By the time that the line would have dwindled down enough to disperse it was always time for dinner and night was well upon them. It was always the same, and the sun was still high in the sky as he daydreamed about what he could have been doing instead. At least, he was, until a familiar voice caught his ear. 

Finally cluing into what was happening around him instead of fantasizing it away, he realized with the utmost horror that he was going to see George today, after all. 

His friend stood calmly before the King and himself, flanked by the guards who always escorted visitors for these things, a step away but otherwise at ease. 

“I thank you for your time, your majesties. My name is George of the clan Founder.” George started, his voice strong and even as he bowed to each royal in turn. “I come asking, no. Begging for asylum for my family. I came alone across the ocean to create a space for my family to follow, but I now ask that if we do so we will be safe here.” 

Dream clenched the arms of his throne, knuckles going white with how hard he was as he struggled to not immediately blurt out questions. Why had George never mentioned anything of the sort to him? His lips burned with the want to speak, but George knew his voice, and even if he wanted with ever fiber of his being to grant that which he asked with no questions, that would only create an issue with his father. So he waited. 

“What is it your family seeks such protection from, George of clan Founder?” His father asked, not affected positively or negatively, but with that hard neutrality that he was known for in the throne room.

Dream watched his friend flounder for a moment, then stand tall as he could, before he spoke once more, his words measured. 

“My sister was chosen to be a part of the harem of the King of the land. She did not wish for that life, but such a refusal would be an insult to the King. She was given time to make an official decision, and I came here, knowing that kin of my own has lived here her entire life. If we are able to leave without anyone knowing, then we would be free of the threat. I ask only that you do not hand my family over if the king comes to you. We will be bringing hard workers, my father is a blacksmith, my mother an accomplished seamstress. We would not be a burden upon your kingdom.” George said. 

“And if this King you speak of decides to try and take what he sees as his own, by force? Why should I risk the safety of my subjects?” The king asked. 

“The King I speak of is not the ruler of a large kingdom. He has a territory half the size of yours and a quarter of the population. He has not an army as robust as your own, no navy to speak of. It would be much too much trouble to try and wage anything against you. The distance alone across the ocean would likely be enough to ward him until he finds someone else to be interested in and gives up on my sister.” George pleads.

Turning to his son, Dream jolts when he is addressed. 

“What say you, Clay? Is our kingdom one that people can find sanctuary from such hardships?” 

From the tone, he knew his father was asking more than just for this specific situation. He knew he was asking him on something that would create a basis for any others that came after this, that this single decision was going to have echoing effects in the future. As he gazes upon George, he knows that the choice he is going to make would be more than just for his friend. His mind raced as he realized that even if this had not been George, it was the right thing to do, and he sighed in relief as he knew he wasn't being selfish in his choice. 

He opened his mouth to speak, and his teeth clicked against each other as he closed it again, suddenly scared, because he had to speak. His father would not take any other sort of answer, this was not a yes or no, not truly. 

If he spoke, he knew that George would know. He only knew his voice. If he spoke, George and his family was safe, but his friendship would likely be ruined. 

Looking at George as he slowly started to look less and less sure of himself, he knew there was only one thing to do, only one option he was willing to live with himself for.

“I would say our kingdom should welcome any people coming to us, whether it be for aid, such as this, or for a new opportunity. If we do not welcome those who come to us with good intentions, we will only foster the worse of us.” He said, eyes locked on George's, watching the surprise, the confusion, the flashing of emotions that flew over the man's features before it blanked out into a polite calm face. 

George was safe. Even if his friendship was not.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the smutty party ya'll!
> 
> If you want to avoid the smut, stop reading after "“Then show me.” George said. " and start again at "He could feel George's hands on his back, tracing lazy circles onto his skin with his nails, and hummed in contentment at the attention."

He had managed to keep himself calm enough, even as his father had granted George and his family sanctuary, and sent him off for the next visitor. It was a whirl of faces and issues that he could hardly focus on, his mind entirely dedicated to replaying the look on George's face, that passively polite, no emotions at all to be found. His chest ached as if there was a hole there, and he couldn't escape the throne room fast enough, running to his room and locking it. 

There was nowhere to go. It was too late to leave without being spotted immediately, and even if he could leave, he couldn't very well show up at George's roof. He may never be able to go back, there was no way to tell if he would be welcome. Dream's breaths came to him in gasps, and tears clouded his vision as he sat down heavily on the ground near his bed, face in his hands as he let the hurt in his chest choke his thoughts. 

George knew. He knew that he had lied, that he had hidden everything important about himself, his face, his standing. He knew that Dream was nothing more than a lying royal. He had seen the confusion, the hurt in the mismatched eyes as he had spoken. He had saved him, and he would do it again and again, even as his own heart broke. But he had lost him. 

He fell into a fitful sleep and did not leave the castle the next day. Nor the next, nor the next after that. He stayed in his room, he attended to his studies. He even let his father corral him into meeting another set of visitors from another far off Kingdom to the west. He played along, and had idle chitchat that did nothing for him, and excused himself at the first possible polite moment to back to his room and sleep the day away. 

It had been almost a week since the moment in the throne room, and he was standing on his balcony. It was long past the point of turning on the lanterns, most of the castle was asleep and he was letting the cool night air fill his lungs. His eyes turned to the stars, he wondered not for the first time what George was doing. If his family had arrived yet, if he missed Dream. He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn't even notice the rustling sound at the edge of his balcony. It was not a windy night, but the sound was the same as the breeze blowing through the thick ivy that climbed the lattice that was near his balcony. It was calming to hear, until something broke the familiar noise. Cursing. A masculine voice muffled as if under him. 

Confused, and a bit concerned, he leaned further over the balcony railing, further than was safe, and gasped at the mismatched eyes looking up at him, clinging as he was to the lattice and vines. 

“George!?” He whisper-shouted, before leaning down grasping the struggling brunette, hauling him up onto the safety of the solid balcony. “What the fuck do you think you are doing, those vines are not strong enough to hold up a person!” 

He was caught between hope and fury. 

It would have taken nothing at all for George to fall, yet he was here, in front of him. Still within his arms from being dragged up to his level, and he quickly dropped the embrace and stepped away from him. 

“Well, it was this or trying to catch you in the throne room again, Dream. Or should I call you Clay?” George said airily as he walked past him into his private quarters. 

Choking down a squawk at the invasion of privacy he rushed inside, and started to hide his various clothes that were strewn on the floor, pushing them under his bed. 

“Dream, just Dream is fine, please.” He said as he turned and watched the older boy wander about his room, as if he was inspecting it. “What are you doing?” 

“Trying to figure you out. A persons bedroom has to have things important to them in it, after all.” He answered, not even sparring Dream a glance. 

“No, George. I mean what are you doing here, in the middle of the night.” Dream bit out, frustration being the only emotion he felt safe enough to latch onto. 

“Because you are avoiding me. Quite rude, honestly.” George said, finally looking at Dream directly.”Cover gets blown and suddenly the commoner on the rooftop not worth the time, Dream?” 

“No! I...” Dream sighed and sat down on his bed. “I didn't think you would want to meet again. Knowing the truth.” 

“It certainly wasn't the best scenario. Pleading at the feet of my best friend for safety and not even knowing it. Would have been nicer to know that about you ahead of time. Would have been much less stressful, making my case.” George said coolly, leaning against the set of drawers Dream had near his bed. 

“As if I could have told you and you take me seriously.” Dream muttered, refusing to meet George's eyes. 

“Well you didn't give me the change, Dream.” He said, the frigid tone slowly easing. “Maybe I would have thought you were mental, but if you had sworn to me that you were telling the truth? I would have believed you, Dream. Why didn't you even try?” 

“Because you wouldn't have wanted anything to do with just me anymore! You would have wanted to get to know Prince Clay, not me, not Dream!” Dream burst out, standing up from his bed and stalking to the other side of his quarters, as if he could escape this conversation. 

“Oh no, you don't get to say that to me, mister lets never show my pretty face not even once to the guy I flirt with every day. Oh look at me, I'm Dream and I'm too good to let my friend even see a glimpse of my face.” George said, following him across the room. 

“Because everyone in the kingdom knows the Prince's face!” Dream argued. 

“Except for me! You could have shown me your face at any time and I would have been none the wiser. So not only did I not actually know who you were, I didn't even know what you looked like! Do you know how confusing it is to have a crush on someone you couldn't pick out of crowd, given the chance?” George said, before crashing into Dream's back as the other stopped his pacing. 

“What?” Dream said, turning around and looking down at George. “George...what?” 

His voice was shaking, confusion obvious in his tone. 

“Oh come off of it Dream, as if I wasn't painfully obvious.” George said, throwing his arms up in the air and turning to try and walk away. 

Catching his arm, Dream circled around to look George in the eyes. 

“Truly?” His voice soft, vulnerable. 

George looked up at him defiantly, before actually looking into his eyes. He seems to find something in them, and sighs, gaze and tone softening. 

“Yes, you absolute idiot. Almost since the very first day I met you.” George admitted. “Don't know how much more obvious I could have been. I'm rather afraid of heights, you know. I do not clamber onto rooftops repeatedly for just any man in a mask.”

“George...” Dream murmured, stepping even closer and searching the other's face. “George, I feel the same way.”

“Then show me.” George said. 

Leaning down, Dream only hesitated for a moment, before George grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him the rest of the way with a low growl, kissing him. It was not a soft delicate thing, it was almost bruising, the force in which they jumped into the kiss. All nips of teeth and pressure as they tried to get closer and closer to each other, stumbling towards the bed as they did so, hands holding onto each other as if they were adrift at sea and needed each other to breathe.

Breaking away for a moment, Dream gently guides them proper to his bed, and pulls George down on top of him as he lays on the plush mattress. George in the meanwhile was nipping and sucking marks into his neck, hands threading themselves through his hair to give it a firm tug. A moan ripped its way out of Dream's throat and he felt his dick twitch at the man handling. 

“George, George wait.” Dream panted and caressed the other's cheek. “Are you sure? Being with me...It won't be easy. There are so many expectations...” 

George smiled down at the other, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his forehead, then one to his nose, and finally one last one to his lips, lingering only for a moment. 

“Dream, anything I would have to face, as long as I have you, I can overcome.” He murmured before kissing him once more. 

A moan rose in Dream's throat and he pressed himself up into the kiss, and flipped the two of them so that George was now laid out beneath him, legs bracketing his hips as he ground down on the other. The kiss deepened, and he sucked on his bottom lip, nipping and letting out a gasp as George reached down and palmed at the front of his pants. 

Throwing his head back, he felt his arms shaking as he tried not to crush the shorter man, leaning down with a growl to mark his neck in retaliation. The sweet sounds he coaxed out of the brunette had his dick hard, and if he was right, so was George's. 

“George, please, please,” He moaned, rutting up against his hand between them.

“What, Dream. Use your words, love.” George said.

Dream choked from the endearment from George's lips and his hips stuttered before he rolled off to the side, quickly shucking off his pants and shirt. When he turned back to George he was rewarded with the sight of large expanses of pale, glowing skin. 

“You're so beautiful.” He said, crawling back over George, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of their skin rubbing together. 

He stole the moan directly out of George's mouth as he kissed him again, tongue exploring the other's mouth as he canted his hips and gave a dirty roll, humming into the kiss at the sensation. 

Reaching down, he grasped them both and gave a languid stroke, stoking at the flame building in his gut as he pulled more and more moans and whimpers from George. 

“Come on Georgie, come, come for me.” He whispered as he picked up the pace, jerking them off as the gasping and moaning picked up as well.

“Dream, Dream I'm so close, please, please please!” He cut off, and Dream kissed him to muffle his scream as he came, shaking under him as he made a mess between them. 

Dream was not long after, using the mess to slick himself and he added to it in short time, panting and collapsing on top of George, his face buried in the other's neck as they both came down from the high. 

He could feel George's hands on his back, tracing lazy circles onto his skin with his nails, and hummed in contentment at the attention. 

“I love you, George.” He said, turning his face enough to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. 

A soft laugh, and George turned his face to return the kiss. 

“I love you too, Dream.”


End file.
